Under-the-table [Pillow] talk (as requested …

… and because you’re a spoilt brat!)


Mummy?

Yes love?

I’m sulking.

I presumed that from the under-the-table position and general hang-dog air you’re giving off.

Well I AM sulking.

Despite the treats?

Hmmph! Don’t know why you had to bath me.

Because, Daisy-bella, if you will insist on rolling in dirt, sand, grass and smelly stuff and are the grey colour of white sheets not washed in Daz and then want to share my bed, you need to be cleaned up.

Still don’t like it. And you trimmed my face …

Tough.

(Long silence)

Daize?

Hmmph!

Want another treat?

S’pose

(Treat gobbled)

Daize?

What?

You look gorgeous when you’re clean and fluffy and I can see your eyes …

(Pause)

Snuggle?

You’ll have to come out from under the table …

No licking/No licking.

🙂 🙂 🙂

You say Ow and I say Oh

BB’s latest wind up attempt is to insist Millau is pronounced Meel-ow and correct me every time I call it Meel-oh. Am I bovvered? I’m here and it’s so deliciously sunny and very warm even the French are wearing sandals!

The night before we left the last campsite, on a very dark last thing walk, Daisy had her first encounter with a toad, least I think it was a toad, it was far too fat for a frog. Every time she tried to sniff it, it jumped. It couldn’t jump very high or far, but every time it jumped, she jumped. It was all I could do to hang on to the lead I was laughing so much, she had her head cocked to one side trying to work it out.

Wonderful two day drive down the beautiful Lot valley stopping at an Aire for one night, where on our late evening walk Daisy was intrigued by a glowworm but didn’t bother to sniff it. I called in at a couple of those “plus beaux villages de France”, jigsaws of which inspired this part of the trip…

Conques

Estaing

Then I cut across to Rodez as there’s apparently a very beautiful cathedral there. Arriving at the outskirts I decided to forego the delights, I wasn’t expecting such a large place so just kept going and headed towards one of my favourite towns …

We’re settled once more on 2Rivieres campsite in Millau (3rd visit) beside the Tarn for a couple of nights so I can do some laundry (well that’s my excuse) and then we shall mosey on up the gorge.

🙂 🙂 🙂

Found; the invisible line

Daisy has enjoyed the walking here in Uzerche, I know she has, as following a couple of days of one of her infrequent but regular mardy episodes, tail down, lethargic and clingy, today she was grinning away whilst rolling around in all the noxious substances on the riverbank she could find.

I don’t know where the invisible line is as I’ve never seen it, much like the equator which I’ve stood on but still couldn’t see, however once I’m below this particular north/south divide I totally relax and feel the urge to slow down. It’s certainly somewhere between Chateudun and Uzerche as we’re spending two nights at the Aire here. I took one look at this ancient, very attractive Merovingian town and wanted to have a good mooch around, so two nights it is. The centre is unspoilt with steep narrow streets and loads of old buildings to appreciate and, with very few tourists yet we’ve had the place pretty much to ourselves, the locals, LWD and I.

Uzerche, Limousin

Plenty of sunshine today, which, by this afternoon had my head in the metaphorical black hole of the garage (not really black as I put an LED strip in there) to find short sleeved T-shirts, cutoffs, and flipflops. I also got out the moon chair, with which I have a love/hate relationship; hate as it’s difficult to it get in and out of the aforementioned garage and love as both Daize and I can snuggle up in it together. We didn’t sunbathe for too long but my freckles (or are they age spots?) have put in an appearance. I haven’t put the jeans and jumpers away yet as the Auvergne is not likely to be as warm. Next stop – Aurillac.

🙂 🙂 🙂

And we’re off …

At the starting gate the runners and riders were champing at the bit. The runner; R0X1. The driver; me. The navigator; Garmina. The general dogsbody; Daisy!

J, with the sometimes unnerving habit our family has of knowing exactly when to contact each other, phoned me to ask what time I was leaving. I was able to report that simultaneously with the question came the ferry main engine start!

Dover was cold, claggy, windy and wet as we left.

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Our ferry viewed from the starting gate.

Calais was cold, claggy, windy and wet as we arrived. It’s easy to forget they are only 25 miles(ish) apart. The nasty stuff continued until mid-afternoon but cleared just before arrival at the first night stop. Having had to spend the night wearing thick walking socks, a jumper over pyjamas and having two blankets over the duvet, this morning the sun is out and the temperature is beginning to climb.

A convenient place to stop for the first night was Le Crotoy,  it was also my first ever Aire. Beside the R. Somme, it’s a quaint fishing port and there were a fair few tourist types on a May bank holiday. The Aire almost emptied of motorhomes late evening as many went home presumably the occupants had go to go to work today.

Port de Le Crotoy

I am now contemplating a move straight to the Med for a couple of weeks and waiting for the mountain area to warm a little more before heading to the Auvergne … well I would, wouldn’t I?!

🙂 🙂 🙂

Another Midlands Meander

Just had a great long weekend at Kings Bromley Wharf where BB is in fine fettle.

We took a car trip up to Bakewell, prettyish but very touristy. The drive up was much more enjoyable through some very beautiful hills and dales. We bought some traditional Bakewell tarts and were rather disappointed – they had been glazed with honey which totally overpowered the almond and raspberry flavours. However there is still hope and another chance to restore our faith in local bakeries; after we’d bought these defective Bakewells we noticed the original Bakewell Pudding Factory. We’ll have to go back and check out their contribution to culinary excellence. We drove back via Matlock Bath but couldn’t find a car parking space so that’s on the revisit list too – it looks far more interesting than Bakewell!

The Peak District

The next day we took a boat trip to Rugely – now unless you’re BB and want a long trip to the supermarket, Rugely should never feature on your revisit list. But then the trip wasn’t about Rugely, it was about having a trip out on the cut in fine spring weather. It was the LWD’s first time on the boat when Blue Buzzard’s underway and she was a very nervous pup, shaking like crazy – or as she was sitting on the roof with my arms around her, it could’ve been just a ruse for extra cuddles!

Spring as viewed from the cut

We bade BB bye-bye for three months this morning, as the Mended One is now able to drive and I’m allowed out to play a month early … Dover-Calais ferry is booked for May 1st!

🙂 🙂 🙂

The first Walk

She-who-has-been-mended gave her walking boots a workout today, first time since last August, and has increased her confidence in her mobility. On uneven ground she walked a couple of miles around Englemere Pond near Ascot. The walk is supposed to take 40 minutes and it only took her 10 minutes more – not bad for 5 weeks post-op spinal fusion!

 

Daisy, the Smart Preteen and I had a pretty good time too …

🙂 🙂 🙂

 

More Moor

Still got the claggy weather, lousy light for photography (don’tcha just love editing suites?) but enjoyed a bit of a drive over the moor.

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HMP Dartmoor

The outside of the HMP Dartmoor in Princetown is exceeding grim and I can’t begin to imagine how it felt to be incarcerated there in 1809 when the first prisoners were admitted. Originally built to inter thousands of French prisoners from the Napoleonic wars they were joined by Americans in 1813. With the end of the wars all remaining prisoners, many had died of diseases in the extremely overcrowded conditions, were repatriated to their respective countries. The prison was then closed until 1850 when it was reopened as a prison for convicted criminals. Having been a high category in the past, today it is a low category prison.

Moretonhampstead had no parking for R0X1 but we had fun a clambering over Postbridge clapper bridge. The clapper bridge dates back to the 12th century and has survived uncountable floods of the East Dart river. The “modern bridge” has also survived many a torrent.

Postbridge, “modern” and clapper bridge

Got back to site and with less than 24 hours left here I finally managed to get R0X level on the ramps!

Off to the Bezzies tomorrow and a few wine-o-clocks!

🍷 🍷 🍷